


Makeup Mishap

by MarshmallowMocha



Series: Marshmallow Fluff [3]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, No beta I die, Other, This is so fluffy it hurts, pining idiot alert, this took me way too long to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMocha/pseuds/MarshmallowMocha
Summary: Gordon's morning routine is interrupted by Benrey.... Again...
Relationships: Frenrey - Relationship
Series: Marshmallow Fluff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001421
Comments: 3
Kudos: 110





	Makeup Mishap

"Benrey." 

"Gordon," Benrey snaps back, not looking away from the mirror. They're liberally applying a thick coat of matte black eyeshadow along their forehead, tongue peeking out slightly from their lips in concentration. They managed to get this almost activated charcoal substance all over one of Gordon’s MIT hoodies, which now drapes over the small stocky frame in front of him, along with a bright fuchsia skirt also speckled with makeup and a pair of loose sweatpants. Two socks, one old off-white, and one brand-new light purple rest loosely on their feet.

"Benrey," Gordon repeats, frustration peaking through his tone, and this time he's noticeably closer too, no longer standing in the doorway but now inches away from the other. He’s got on a similar MIT hoodie, only it’s a little small for his chubby frame, pulled not quite too tight but snug, making Benrey’s heart flutter at the sight. He’s got on large pajama pants, shades darker yet still just as orange as the hoodie he’s wearing, and a simple pair of matching gray socks. He huffs out, trying his best but failing to suppress a laugh, "That's not how you apply makeup."

"Uhhhh…" It takes a moment for them to process what has been said, analyzing what their ex-enemy now roommate is saying, even longer to formulate a comeback, but not before a bit of slimy Sweet Voice™ the lime green colors turning to an orange, which… uh good look rhyming that to somehow come up with confusion, "Mr… uh… Mr. Smartman over here doesn't- doesn't know the makeups… doesn't know what eyeshadow is l-o-l."

After a couple of strangled noises, a huff escapes Gordon’s lips, “I don’t have time for this.” He shuffles in, grabbing his toothbrush and some toothpaste, “I’m going to brush my teeth in the kitchen…”

Benrey silently watched him leave, letting the gears turn in their head. Of course, they know how this worked! 

...Ok maybe they didn’t but admitting it to their crush would be embarrassing! And-

Ok, Gordon obviously knew he’s already fucking it up.

But Benrey, not wanting to seem dumb they reflexively just pretend they’re doing these things on purpose…

However…

“Ay, yo, Freeman,” Benrey no-clips into the kitchen, startling the man hunched over the kitchen sink. Gordon chokes on the toothpaste mixed with saliva, hacking it up into the bottom of the stainless steel basin. His toothbrush slides across the tiled floor, and under the fridge.

Blue Sweet Voice™ fills the room, the bubbles filled with something clear, glimmering in the fluorescent lights. They look over him blankly, yet their voice holds a pang of concern, “Ay yo, you good? C- Calm down time?”

“Benrey,” He hisses in between coughs, eyes tearing up, “Wha- What the fuck- Benrey, what’re you- you doing? Jesus, you’re go- going to give me a fu- fucking heart attack!”

“Whuh?” Their knee-jerk response.

“What do you want,” He sighs, voice exasperated, the Sweet Voice™ affecting him to some degree just by seeing the blue hanging in the air. Placing his hands on his hips, he gives them the Dad Look™. One eyebrow raised, and a disappointment in his eyes like one would look at a child caught reaching in the cookie jar.

“Uhhh…” They pensively look down at the off-white tile, the Dad Look™ affecting them just as well as Sweet Voice™ could, “If you’re- you’re so good at doing makeups, Mr. Makeupman then- then you should- you should wears it- makes you lookin’ the goods cool.”

“You know what? Fine,” Gordon sighs, turning and rinsing off the toothpaste from his face and mouth, “Just- Just gimme a moment…”

“Huh?” This time it’s genuine, head slightly tilted and their long black hair shifts to rest on their shoulder.

“I’m going to show you...” Gordon grasps his hand, guiding the other back to the bathroom, “... how to ‘do makeups’.”

A bit of fuzzy pink Sweet Voice™, the color almost blending into the background, escapes Benrey's lips but they ignore it, in favor of smacking their lips a couple of times to buy them some time as well as distract the other from their display of affection, "Freeman's- Freeman's gonna show lil ol' Benny his- his- his skillzzz?"

"Listen, it's only been a week since-" Gordon catches himself from saying something along the lines of 'its only been a week since you died', instead opting for, "... The Resonance Cascade, so I'm really not up to decipher whatever you say."

"Whatever,  _ Feetman _ ," They sneer back, childishly yet without a trace of it showing on their face, "You just- you just gotsta get- gets gud."

Aside from Gordon’s face scrunching up in cringe, he doesn't acknowledge the word vomit. Instead, he takes out a makeup wipe, holding it in one hand, and holds out the other beckoningly, "Here; Let's start over."

Benrey, not knowing what the fuck Gordon is trying to get them to do, placing a hand over the prosthetic like a trained dog.

“That’s not-” He signs, realizing he should’ve given more context clues, “Ben, I’m asking permission to wipe off your makeup for you.”

“Uhhhh…” Benrey drops their hand, brown to rust Sweet Voice™ escaping in a single light orb, the opaque almost jello texture wiggling in the air; their embarrassed emotions are shown, “I dee kay, man. Seems- Seems kinda... kinda gay, you, uhhh... you gay, Mister- Mister Gayman?”

After a quick huff, Gordon’s unable to find a proper response, he cups Benrey’s face with his prosthetic, pulling their face forward to get a better look.

Syrupy Sweet Voice™ the color of cotton candy drips out of their lips, turning to a pale blue.

_ “Light pink to sky blue means I’m pining hard for you!”  _ Tommy’s voice echoes in the back of Benrey’s mind. Gordon sighs deeply through his nose, knowing now to not acknowledge the Sweet Voice™ as to not wanting to go down that rabbit hole, before gently wiping away first the Sweet Voice™, then the eyeshadow caked on their forehead, going through a whole pack just getting the majority of it off.

“Did you-” Gordon murmurs, raising an eyebrow at their face, “You  _ only  _ put eyeshadow on?”

He turns their head back and forth, examining the makeup staining their skin.

“Uhhh-”

“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” He signs, opening up another pack of wipes, then going in closer being careful not to blow hot air into their face. He folds up the wipe into a tight corner using one hand, still having his prosthetic to hold the other still, then uses it near the corner of the other’s eye moving slowly as possible.

Benrey feels the Sweet Voice™ bubbling up like a boiling stew, the syrupy sweet fake strawberry taste in the back of their throat combined with blue cotton candy, but they gulp several times to at least attempt to keep the bubbles from hitting their crush in the face.

He takes the silent treatment from Benrey as a blessing, even with the dribble running down their chin, and finishes up cleaning around their eye, refolding the now warm cloth to a clean corner and working on the next one, running it along and making sure to get even in between their crow’s feet and other slight wrinkles on their face.

He grabs one more and wipes up the Sweet Voice™, tossing it into the ever-growing pile of makeup wipes.

“Ok,” Gordon takes his hand away, missing the whine that escapes them from the lack of touch, even the synthetic one, “I’m going to wash your face now, then we can get started.”

“Didn’t- Didn’tcha already washy washy my face? Seems kinda- Seems kinda re-dun’ ant, Freeman,” They give him a wide smile, sharp teeth stained with Sweet Voice™.

“Gross, dude!” Gordon playfully pushes them, “And I need to wash your face with actual soap. Here, give me a moment.”

He dumps the wipes into the trash, washes his hands, then opens up the cabinet. He pulls out two hand towels and sets them down next to the alien sitting on the counter, before closing the cabinet haphazardly. He turns on the water, letting it warm up then soaks one of the towels in the water. He wrings it out, then grabs a bottle of his face wash from the shower, pouring a small amount onto the towel and scrubbing it until suds appear.

Once again, his prosthetic returns to the other’s face, pulling it forward, closer.

And again, they have to swallow down the sweetness, now making them a little sick to their stomach, as they practically melt under the other’s touch.

They wince their eyes shut, desperately trying not to make things worse and puke on the human they’ve been pining for.

“Calm down,” The voice is stern but not harsh, and a thumb runs across their cheek, probably due to something subconscious but that still makes it difficult to hold it in any longer.

Sweet Voice™, the light cotton candy pink to a pale baby blue, fluffy like clouds fly out. They had managed to turn their head beforehand, but it filled the room making it difficult to see even a few feet in front of them. 

But they could see it.

The awe on Gordon’s face. Not disapproval but the opposite in fact.

He was enjoying the light show, which started up another round or Sweet Voice™ filling up the room.

Once they calmed down sufficiently, Gordon returned to removing any residual makeup as well as the dribble of Sweet Voice™. 

“Dude,” Gordon leans back, getting a better look at the whole picture, “Why were you wearing all that in the first place? You look g- uuuhhhh… You look nice without makeup.”

“That’s uhhh…” More pink Sweet Voice interrupts them, “That’s uhhh… that’s kinda- kinda gay. You- you gay? haha.”

“Yes, Benrey,” Gordon sighs, shaking his head, then his lips upturn up into a smirk, and he stifles a laugh, “I’m gay. I like guys. Is there something wrong with that?”

Benrey looks like someone painted his face with red paint, and is now spewing Sweet Voice™ again. This time it’s yellow to black, and prickly similar to an urchin, it bounces around on the ground messily, squishing and oozing. In between coughing up the tar-like goop, they manage through their panic, “N- NO! That’s- Wait, I uh….”

“You’re lucky this shit doesn’t stain,” Gordon squints in disgust, then addresses their reaction, “And I was just messing around, man. You’re good. Here, lemme get your hair out of your face. Turn around.”

“If you- you wanted to- to see my ass, Freeman, you coulda- ya coulda jus’ asked,” Benrey scooted around awkwardly, wiggling to move into place, complaining while still complying.

“Whatever, dude,” Gordon chuckles, then an idea pops into his head. In his best Benrey impression, combined with struggling not to laugh, he continues, “Likin’ the view from back here.”

They yelp out some more pink to blue Sweet Voice™, the taste getting old in their mouth, but not the flutter in their chest, not from Gordon flirting back like that. They bury their face in their hands, curling up in embarrassment, a bit of orange soap-like bubbles slipping out in the end.

“Geez, dude,” Gordon chuckles airily, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, “You can dish it, but you can’t take it, huh?”

“Whatever, man,” Benrey mumbles in between their fingers, face dark red with blush, “Yous- Yous- Just messing with me and shit.”

“Just…” Gordon sighs, “Just hold still, ok?”

“Mleh mleh mleh mleh,” Benrey mocks back but compiles, only sticking their sleeve into their mouth, chewing on the fabric passively.

Gordon picks up his orange brush, then runs a hand through the long black hair, the thick smooth and surprisingly soft texture runs cleaning through his fingers. He runs the brush through their hair slowly, working up from the tips to the roots, carefully combing it until satisfied, then grabs one of his orange scrunchies, wrapping it around his prosthetic. Benrey practically melted at the feeling of the brush across their scalp, letting out an almost inaudible content sigh. He runs his fingers down once more, separating their locks into three parts. Weaving them over each other, working his way from the left to the right then back, trailing it down to the ends. The farther Gordon goes, the more Benrey melts, eyes closed and a small smile spreads on their face. If you lean in close, you’d hear them purring, but with the AC running it’s difficult to parse out unless specifically listening for it. He finishes by tying the orange scrunchie to keep everything in place.

“You really need a trim,” Gordon eyes the strands, delicately rubbing it in between his fingers.

“... Huh?” Benrey’s eyes flutter open, snapping out of their trance.

“You’re hair; the ends are starting to split, you’ll need a trim,” Gordon elaborates, dropping the braid and letting it rest on their back, “Now, I’ll work on your makeup.”

“Thoughts- uhhh… thought yous were gonna- yous were gonna do makeup? Show off your sweet nasty skillzzzz?”

“What are you-” Gordon scoffs, then deconstructs what exactly they said, “Oh, right. Yeah uhh-”

“Braids hairs? Benrey braids- Ben-Ben Braids back?” Benrey turns, then does a grabby hands motion towards the other, “Then you can- Then you doos the makeups.”

Gordon heistates, feeling unease in the pit of his stomach still reeling from losing his arm. He steals a glance over at his arm, huffing out and dismissing that train of thought. He’s lived with this… them. He’s lived with them for a while now, so trust is something he’s given them on more than one occasion.

“There’s hair ties in there and use this brush,” He points out each item, then hops on the counter next to them with his back to them, “Just don’t fuck up my hair, ok?”

“Mleh mleh mleh mleh,” Benrey mocks, but in reality they’re visibly shaking from their nerves. They’re moving carefully slow and with a gentleness like one wrong move would bring this all crashing down. They take up the brush and start brushing up from the bottom to the top, moving as carefully as they can. They hum out some Sweet Voice™, an orange to a gentle hue of red meaning I’m feeling quite content. They rock a little, setting down the brush and collecting the hair in their hands. They separate them into three even parts then moving the locks over and around each other until it reaches the end. They frown at how soon it’s over, but tie a blue scrunchie anyways then let the braid drop down onto the other’s back.

At first, they both just sit there in silence, not moving until Benrey starts to worry. Until they see the other’s face in the mirror next to them.

They have their eyes closed, face calm and a small smile is on his lips. He’s fallen asleep, somehow still sitting upright only swaying gently and his breathing even.

Benrey has to swallow hard to keep the sickeningly sweet Sweet Voice™ from spilling out.

They opt to shake him awake, placing their hand on his shoulder and giving a small shake, which rouses him almost immediately.

“Huh?!” He looks around in a panic, drool running down his chin.

“Yo, Freeman,” They smirk, “Likin- Likin that naps a lot, huh? Got a lil… lil uhhhh… lil something on your- your chin there, l-o-l.”

“Wh- Benrey what are you-” He swipes his hand over his mouth and becomes immediately flushed, blushing all the way down to his neck, “Uh… I-!”

“No worries,” Benrey’s mouth pulls into a bigger grin, “Not gonna- not gonna show- show off these uhhh…. sweet pics of- of- of ya to anyone. Lil clumsy there, aren’t cha? Falling- Falling asleep like that, Freeman uhhh…. Sleepman… Gordos Sleepman.”

"What?" Gordon laughs nervously, then the color drains from his face, "Wait, what pics?"

“Huh?”

“Benrey, what pics?!” Gordon fully turns to them, hands reaching out to grab their shoulders. 

“Yo, sto-” Benrey responds by leaning back, forgetting they’re on top of a counter and slipping off the edge, “Wh-!”

Going from reaching to shake them and reaching to catch them, Gordon follows them off the counter trying and failing to keep them from slipping.

They both grunt as they land on the tile floor with a loud thump and a pause. They stare at each other, Gordon hovering over the alien leaning back on their elbows and their faces only a few inches apart. Then they both simultaneously blush hard, eyes staring wide at each other.

Pink to blue Sweet Voice™ pummels him in the face, coating his glasses in a syrupy mess.

Gordon jumps back, falling on his ass in the process, “Fuck! Jesus!”

He takes off his glasses and looks over the goopy mess incredulously.

“Whuh…?” Benrey says dazily, eyes blown wide like saucers.

“Dude!” He scoffs, then sighs to calm himself down, “Just… Ben, just forget about the makeup. You don’t need it you look good without it, just-”

“UH I UHHHHH!” Benrey blushes even harder, voice failing them and they sink down lower into the floor. Then they pop up to standing position faster than Gordon’s seen anyone do before and power walks out of the room.

He looks back down to his glasses, the Sweet Voice™ now faded away and places them back on his face. He stares at the doorway for a while, waiting to see if they come back but the sound of high-pitched Sweet Voice™ coming from their rooms says otherwise. He mulls over what he said until it clicks. He said they look good. He can be smooth only by accident, apparently. He even called him by a nickname, which he’d never done before.

He runs a hand over his face, pushing up his glasses and curling up into himself, blushing hard once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I don't know how or where or why Benrey got the concept of putting on makeup like that, it's Benrey. Also, don't question where he gets the makeup from I don't know I just thought I'd be funny.


End file.
